


For the Love of a God

by MsBlam



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Look all I'm saying is Patroclus has two hands, M/M, Multi, They are so soft guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBlam/pseuds/MsBlam
Summary: “Forgive me, O gods! You are not known for your kindness. But this son of Lord Hades always regarded me, a mere shade, with respect; and the congenial manner of an old friend.”Achilles loves the Prince. Patroclus can see that in the gentle adoration in his beloved's eyes as he stares after the flame footed god. Yet for all that they sing songs of his bravery, Achilles has always been the hesitant one. Patroclus won't let him wait forever.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game), Achilles/Patroclus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Achilles/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Patroclus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 441





	For the Love of a God

_“Forgive me, O gods! You are not known for your kindness. But this son of Lord Hades always regarded me, a mere shade, with respect; and the congenial manner of an old friend.”_

Their little glade in Elysium is peaceful, Zagreus had came and went countless times, his steps leaving scorched divots in the ethereal grass. Patroclus is beside him, his presences steady, warmth bleeding into Achilles from where their sides are pressed together. Achilles reaches out and threats their fingers together just because he can.

“He really loves you, doesn’t he?” It isn’t really a question. Patroclus has always seen what goes unsaid, and this isn’t something Achilles wants to talk about.

He doesn’t answer, and Pat doesn’t push, but his words ring in Achilles’ head even after they fade form the air.

It rings in his head when Zagreus smiles at him and hands him a bottle of ambrosia to share with Patroclus. When the Prince seeks him out again and again gives everything he can to Achilles in the only way he knows how. Gift after gift, and Achilles can give nothing more back.

He sees the pain it brings the Prince, and maybe that pain wouldn’t tear at him so much if only the Prince was spiteful like the other gods. If only he had some ulterior motives, if only he demanded reconciliation for all that he had done for Achilles. But he does not, and Achilles knows that Zagreus holds nothing ill in his heart against him or Patroclus.

Achilles can’t bear it.

He reaches out and catches Zagreus’ wrist before he can reach for the bottle held in the crook of his other arm.

“Enough. Stop this, lad.” He demands softly. Zagreus’ smile falters before flaring to life again, brittle this time.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Sir. If I can’t gift a bottle of Ambrosia to whomever I please it makes having the stuff pointless, doesn’t it?” The Prince says easily. He doesn’t pull away from Achilles’ hold.

This stupid _boy_ , this endlessly kind, _stupid boy_.

A noise of frustration slips free of Achilles’ mouth and he sets his spear aside, takes the ambrosia out of Zagreus’ hold and sets that aside too. He reaches out and pulls the god to him, wraps Zagreus’ in his arms and rests his chin on the crown of the Prince’s head.

“Zagreus, please stop. It only hurts you and I cannot bear to see you so.”

Maybe the embrace is counterproductive, but it’s all Achilles can do. He cannot push Zagreus away, snap in his face to abandon his feelings. He cannot carelessly dismiss the Prince’s affection, take his heart and laugh away the tenderness the Prince has for him. All Achilles can do is pull him close and beg the god to stop loving him.

Trembling arms return the embrace, warm fingers hooking into the edges of his armor. The breaths at his throat are uneven, pained. When Zagreus pulls away Achilles lets him go.

Zagreus smiles at him then, and Achilles’ heart breaks in his chest at how fragile the expression is. The Prince retreats a step, and then another.

“’As hateful to me as the gates of Hades, is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another’, or say they say. I fear I’ve become that man, Sir. Forgive me.” Zagreus bows to him, formal and straight backed. All Achilles can see is how Zagreus’ lips tremble.

“Lad-“ Achilles doesn’t get any farther than that one word, doesn’t have the words to make things better, only worse.

“I don’t know if I – “ Zagreus starts, snaps his mouth closed and swallows.

“I will leave you in peace now, Sir.” He says, bowing again and turning to leave.

Achilles lets him go.

_This is for the best._

And yet it makes Achilles’ heart ache.

Patroclus looks at Achilles for a long moment when next he visits his beloved, but Patroclus doesn’t push. Content for once to simply observe, trusting in their eternity together to reveal the answers. An eternity that the Prince had fought and blead for. An eternity Achilles would have spent alone if it wasn’t for Zagreus.

They sit in the glade together sharing whatever stories drift into their mind. For Patroclus they are often about the strange characters that drift by and challenge him. For Achilles they are most often about the residents of the House, most often about the Prince.

Patroclus watches him closely, but mercifully says nothing.

Zagreus leaves him in peace, yet peace flees Achilles just as surely as the Prince had.

The west hall grows cold without the Prince’s frequent visits, the dimness of the House growing on the walls like moss. Achilles suspects if Thanatos didn’t linger at the balcony the Prince would not enter this wing of the House at all.

Because of Achilles.

And still the Prince greats his on the occasion he passes the guard post, polite and respectful as ever, but it’s different now. Distant.

Achilles is grateful the Prince is distancing himself. Achilles should be grateful.

“You said something to him, didn’t you?” Again, it’s not a question, and Achilles doesn’t follow Patroclus’ gaze where his beloved is watching Zagreus’ retreating form. Achilles answers this time.

“I did.” He can say no more, every word that comes to mind sounds like an excuse.

“What did you say?” Patroclus asks, demands.

“That he had to stop, that I could see what he was doing to himself and couldn’t bear to see him like that.” It hurts to hear his own words, and the memory of Zagreus’ face is more painful still.

“Sometimes I wonder how I could have fallen in love with such a selfish man.” Patroclus’ words land on a wound that will never heal and it hurts more than he can say.

“Was it selfish to wish him not to torment himself so?” Achilles words bite into the air sharper than he means for them to.

“That is not for you to decide. What was he demanding that you could not give him?” Patroclus rebuffs, his own words growing sharp in response to Achilles’ hostility.

“My heart, my love.” Achilles snaps back, meeting Patroclus’ gaze in challenge.

Patroclus searches his face and Achilles doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but when the other man looks away Achilles feels like he’s failed.

“No. All he wanted was your smile.”

The words make Achilles sick with himself.

He had wanted Zagreus to stop tormenting himself. A pretty lie with the guise of self-righteousness. Achilles had wanted Zagreus to stop tormenting _him_. He couldn’t bear to see the Prince’s sadness, couldn’t bear being the source of those bittersweet smiles. So he’d selfishly demanded Zagreus take the blame and stay away. For Achilles’ own good, not Zagreus’.

And the Prince had done as he’d asked. Because he loved Achilles. Because he would do anything for Achilles, the Prince had left him in peace.

Yet there is no peace to be found, and Achilles had once again abandoned someone who loves him because of his own cowardice.

“What would you have me do?” The words come out hopeless.

“Risk it all once again, my beloved. Whatever precipice awaits you, I will surely follow. What is there to fear?” Patroclus’ voice is stead, unwavering.

Achilles has no answer for him. Another failure.

Patroclus makes a sound of disgust.

Achilles can do nothing but stare out over the Lethe and listen as Patroclus rises to his feet and leaves. Where he is going, Achilles doesn’t know. Maybe it’s just to get away from Achilles.

He sits there awhile longer. A different shade haunting the glade for a time.

Achilles steps off Chiron’s ferry and steps quietly done the halls of the House. It is quiet, the Lord Hades having dismissed court for the month.

Laughter rings through the House and it stops Achilles in his tracks.

It’s Zagreus’ voice, clear and joyous in a way Achilles hadn’t head before. Achilles is drawn to the sound, peering into the lounge to see what could make the Prince laugh like that.

Patroclus

His beloved is standing at one of the high tables with the Prince, the pendant of Hades fastened on his cloak.

Something like dread swoops in his gut at the thought of Patroclus signing away his eternity to the House.

“Come here Shade, your duties have been modified.” The Lord Hade’s voice carries down the hall.

Both the Prince and his beloved turn to look at Achilles as the summons announces his presence in the House. There is something like victory on Patroclus’ face when he sees Achilles.

He listens numbly as Lord Hades informs him of his new partner. Dryly telling a tale of the Prince insisting they hire another guard with the increased influx of shades. And oh, what do you know, the new guard was Patroclus.

Achilles doesn’t believe for a moment this is anyone’s doing but Patroclus himself.

“And what are the terms of his agreement with the House?” Achilles ventures to ask.

“Information you are not privy to, I’m sure. You are dismissed.” Hades answers, waving Achilles away.

Patroclus is standing at the guard post, and it fills Achilles with something like anger.

“What have you done?” He demands in a hushed whisper. Patroclus stares back at him coolly.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, beloved. I thought you would be happy to see more of me?”

Frustration wells up in Achilles’ chest.

“Not at the cost of your freedom.”

“I have given nothing up I cannot take back. The Prince is a far kinder employer than his Lord Father I am to understand.”

Achilles has the helpless feeling of Patroclus forging ahead and leaving him behind. Again. He reaches out and catches Patroclus’ elbow in his grip. It’s not a demand, but a plea.

“Pat what are you doing?” He asks softly. The only assurance Achilles receives is the softening of the frown on his beloved’s face.

Patroclus leaves the House often, as often as the Prince does, and it takes no scholar to know Patroclus waits in his customary spot for the prince to pass by on his unending quest upwards. The shade always returns with a report which he gives to Hypnos before returning to Achilles’ side and resuming their shared vigil.

When next the Prince wanders into their vision, Patroclus calls out to him. Mismatched eyes widen in surprise and it makes some part of Achilles shrivel up and die when the Prince’s eyes flicker to him in hesitation before approaching.

He can see it now. Achilles had broken more than just the Prince’s heart when he’d pushed him away. Achilles had broken his trust too. The trust that Achilles would always be there for the him, that Achilles would welcome his company, that he was wanted.

Achilles watches them speak, finding no words of his own to contribute, too entranced by the way Patroclus laughs softly in that way of his, leaning closer to the Prince. The Prince leaning back unthinkingly.

Achilles has to look away, not in jealousy, but shame.

Patroclus was always the brave one.

Watching Patroclus and the Prince it – it makes him fall in love again.

He knows all Pat’s tricks, the way he cocks his head to the side _just so_ , the small but deliberate touches, his smile that makes his eyes shimmer. It all makes the love he has for Patroclus glow in his chest until he can barely breath. And the Prince – watching him steals what little breath Achilles has left. The warm blush that spreads across his cheeks at Patroclus’ praises, his hesitant smile that turns into a helpless laughter.

Achilles sees it all and lets himself fall in love again, because in truth, he had already loved them both.

Yet still he hesitated.

They are in the lounge, the endless clatter of the head chief the background noise to their relaxation.

“Beloved,”

Achilles’ head snaps over at the tone in Pat’s voice.

“I want you to go hide behind the bar. I want you to listen.” Patroclus isn’t looking at Achilles, but at the doorway to the lounge.

Achilles does as he’s asked.

His suspicion is proven right when Patroclus speaks again.

“My Prince!” He calls out. Bereft of sight it suddenly strikes Achilles how gently the title of Prince curls on his beloved’s tongue, how ‘my’ replaced ‘stranger’ and the genuine happiness in Patroclus’ voice as he greats the Prince.

“Patroclus!” Zagreus calls back, excitement in his own voice.

“Might you join me for a respite, Highness?”

“I’d be honored. It just so happens that I confiscated some contraband recently. And wouldn’t you know, Meg doesn’t seem to be around to take it off my hands.” The Prince accepts, voice close now, amusement plain to hear.

“Well, as servants of your Lord Father, we would be remiss if we didn’t dispose of it. Wouldn’t we?” Patroclus’ voice is warm with laughter and there is the sound of a bottle being set on the table.

“We would.” The Prince agrees, popping the stopper.

Achilles does as he’s told, not moving from his spot. He listens as the two of them get drunk off their asses, giggling together like children. Listens to them tell stories and jokes, feeling a smile stretching across his own face at their happiness, and then it falls away.

He wants to be with them. He wants to be beside them, between them, their warmth bleeding into him. Achilles wants to see them smile and make them laugh. Wants that for the rest of eternity.

Achilles tenses at the sound of his own name, but it’s just Patroclus telling another story. And then another, and another. From their youths, form their wars. Patroclus speaks and the Prince listens.

“You really love him.” The Prince observes, something sad in his voice, words ever so slightly slurred.

“I do, but it isn’t always easy. Is it my Prince?” Patroclus hums in return. Achilles can see his plan now, and can’t help but wonder which of the three of them it will hurt the most. Zagreus is quiet for a long time.

“Please, Sir. If you want to say something, I think it might be best if you – if you just say it.” The Prince’s voice is quiet, small.

“Achilles is a fool, and a coward.” Patroclus says flatly, voice too sober for how empty the bottle sounds when it is set on the table. Achilles can’t refute the accusation, his current hiding spot attesting to both.

“If he could see us right now, he would agree.” Patroclus says definitively, and a fool he might be, but Achilles can take a hint when he’s thrown one.

He peeks around the corner of the bar just in time to see Patroclus drag the Prince forward by his chiton and kiss him. Patroclus twists and pushes until the Prince is nearly laying on the table, scrambling for something to hold onto and landing on Patroclus himself. Achilles loses his breath at the sight, swallows dryly at the surprised moan that slips out of the Prince’s throat only to be devoured by Patroclus. When he pulls back Zagreus is pliant and breathless.

“You deserve whatever your heart desires my Prince. I would give it to you, if only you would let me.” Patroclus’ words are soft, tender in a way he so rarely is.

“But- “ Zagreus starts to protest, and Achilles can already hear the Prince’s objections. Can already hear his defense of Achilles in the face of an apparently unfaithful lover. Patroclus places a gentle kiss on the Prince’s cheek to silence him.

“Shh- all is well, darling. Sleep now and we can talk when you awaken. I will speak to my beloved and you will see the truth of my words.” Patroclus assures, arms snaking out to curl around the Prince’s shoulders and beneath his knees. Zagreus makes another noise of protest as he’s lifted into the air, one hand planted in the center of Patroclus’ chest ready to twist away.

“Trust me? Trust me to never do something that would hurt either of you?” Patroclus asks softly. It was a voice Achilles had never been able to deny, and it sooths the unhappiness in the Prince’s shoulders. The fight bleeds out of Zagreus and he settles in Patroclus’ arms, head resting on his shoulder. The sight makes Achilles’ heart twist.

He loves them both so much.

Patroclus shoots him a ‘what are you waiting for’ look over his shoulder as he caries the Prince out of the lounge and across the hall. Achilles trails after them like a whipped dog, and maybe the comparison isn’t so dissimilar with how gutted he feels. He scoops up Patroclus’ abandoned spear as he goes.

Achilles lingers in the shadow of the doorway and watches as Patroclus carefully pulls back the blankets and lays Zagreus down. The Prince’s hand reaches out and hooks on the front of Patroclus’ armor before he can pull away.

“Stay with me?” is the soft request

“Of course, my darling.” comes the even softer reply. Patroclus unhooks his breastplate and loosens his sandals before laying down next to the Prince, who only makes a contented sound before succumbing to true slumber.

Achilles meets Pat’s eyes in the dimness of the room. Patroclus solves whatever question Achilles has about what he should do next.

“I sear to the Three Fates, if you don’t lay down with us, I will strangle you.” The very real threat spurs Achilles into action, setting their spears aside and stripping off his armor and sandals.

Zagreus is curled into Patroclus’ chest, the space at the Prince’s back empty. A space they’d left just for him, if only he had the courage to take it.

Carefully, ever so carefully, he curls himself around the Prince. He is so warm. The heart beating against his chest is slow and steady, the sent of woodsmoke comforting and familiar.

Patroclus’ smile is self-satisfied and smug, but there is a question that has been eating at Achilles.

“This isn’t just for me is it, Pat? I can’t do this if you don’t love him as I do. I won’t let you use him to make me happy.” Achilles can’t meet Patroclus’ eyes when he says it, can only stare at the curve of Zagreus’ jaw as he strokes a soothing finger along the god’s cheek.

“You are a fool, beloved. No one could love him as you do, but I can love him my way.” His words are soft, amused. It makes Achilles breath out a quiet laugh in return.

Patroclus shifts, his legs tangling with four others and he freezes, eyes going wide, smile stretching across his face before he starts to shake with silent laughter. He clamps his hand over his mouth even as tears leak from his eyes. His laughter abates only for him to move his hand to speak and a snort to come out instead of words.

Achilles has to clench his jaw shut to stop his own laughter form slipping free. He buries his face in Zagreus’ shoulder in the hopes that not looking at Patroclus will keep him form laughing. The other shade rolls away, disentangling himself from the sleeping Prince as gently as posable before grabbing a spare pillow and having his fit of giggles muffled by the cloth and feathers.

Achilles gets himself under control, and can only watch as Patroclus does the same. He raises his eyebrow in question, not that words would wake the Prince if their fits hadn’t.

“His feet, Achilles. You finally have something to thaw your frozen toes that aren’t my shins.”

He slides his foot forward only to be met with the blessed warmth of the god’s flaming soles, dimmed to a soft glow in his sleep. And of all the silly things, it’s that detail that makes Achilles’ eyes sting. He shuts them tight against the pain and rests his cheek against Zagreus’ crown. A gentle hand cups his cheek.

“Shh- all is well, beloved. Rest now and we can talk later. There is no hurry.” Patroclus sooths with the same promise he’d given Zagreus.

That’s right. There was no hurry. An eternity was stretched in front of them, and Achilles was looking forward to every moment of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Absolutely love these three and figured I would just finish up the little blurbs I had for them and make it into this. Maybe now I can work on my semester papers lol


End file.
